


Healing

by SrtaDoppe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Injury, CF Route, CF Sylvain, Character Death, Crimson Flower Route, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Unrequited Love, post CF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23181091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrtaDoppe/pseuds/SrtaDoppe
Summary: Even after the war has ended, Sylvain still dreams about battlefield and blood.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so, this is my second fic here? I felt like doing angst so, here it is.
> 
> I have lots of WIP on my computer, and most of them are Sylvix, so just wait for it.
> 
> Also, this was made without beta because it's 4AM and I wanted to upload it already. I'll edit the note and the work once my beta is free. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it ♡
> 
> Edit: Beta-ed! Thanks to my lovely beta for the work, I don't deserve her ♡

It's still dark outside when he wakes up. Heart beating fast in his chest, Sylvain can't shake the horror of the nightmare that he just had, war memories and what if's infesting his dreams. The sweat is making his shirt clamp on his body in a disgusting manner. He sits up, deciding to take a shower to calm himself, but a hand grabs his wrist, startling him.

"Where are you going, idiot? It's still dark outside" Felix's voice, half muffled from having his face in the pillow, and still hoarse from sleeping, makes his heart warm. He's here. He's _alive_.

"Hey, Felix. Sorry for waking you up, just wanted to take some air"

He hears the little grunt of the dark haired man, now his eyes boring into him, knowing Sylvain enough to doubt him. Sylvain also knows he can't escape, so he doesn't make any other move to leave, waiting for Felix to say something.

"Don't lie to me. Did you have another nightmare?" Sylvain just nods, hoping the light of the moon is enough to let Felix see the gesture "Want to talk about it?"

Sylvain thinks for a bit, looking at Felix's eyes. He's sure that in other situations, he would have said no, a tired smile on his face, but not tonight. For some reason, something is pulling him to open up to Felix. Maybe the fact that it's a trauma both of them have and neither of them can escape.

Slowly, Felix gets up, sitting up like Sylvain, waiting for his response, his hands now holding the Sylvain’s on a caring way.

"Yeah. I… I would like to share it" The Gautier heir takes a deep breath, searching for the words to express the vivid nightmare. It's neither something strange nor something so explicit that you feel the need to vomit. But it's the reality of the nightmare what makes it hard. Another deep breath "We were on war again. But we were… We weren't on the same side. It was Arianrhod, and you were there, and then you were dead, Fe. _Dead_."

"Oh, Sylvain" Sylvain closed his eyes, feeling Felix's hands on his own, going up, reaching Sylvain’s shoulders. Felix got closer to his ear, and then, whispered "That wasn't a dream, you fool"

Sylvain felt his heart stop, the room suddenly freezing, and in panic, he opened his eyes, and the air got stuck in his throat.

Felix fingers were digging into his shoulders, dangerously close to his neck. Several wounds were now visible on his body, all bleeding, staining the white bed sheets.

"Why did you break our promise, Sylvain? We were going to die together, but you sided with the empire" His hands were in his neck now, slowly adding pressure to the grab, and Sylvain was unable to react, too afraid, too _guilty._ Cold eyed looked directly at him "You are a _liar_. You _left_ me, like Glenn did. You're a traitor." It was getting more difficult to breath, but the redhead wasn't able to fight it. Felix was right, he _deserved_ this. He failed all his friends, and now everyone was dead because of him.

"Sylvain, why did you let me fall?" Ah, that was a new voice, but Sylvain would recognize it anywhere. Now, beside Felix, was Ingrid, blood everywhere, same cold dead eyes as the Fraldarius, and looking directly at him "You let me fall, Sylvain. I fell and you weren't there to help me. Now I'm _dead_ and it's all your _fault_."

Sylvain couldn't even try to deny it. He saw the arrow pierce her pegasus's wings, but didn't reach to help her. He can't remember much, his mind clouded, and the memories that remained are Ingrid's horrid scream, and her eyes, sad, looking at him from the ground.

"Maybe… I've become like him…" Ingrid's last words engraved in his memories, the sad smile, covered in red blood, at the thought of dying for her ideals, and that, maybe, in the after-life, she could see Glenn again.

The hand on his neck applied more pressure, Felix getting closer at the same time, the wound bleeding non-stop, staining everything around him. But this wasn’t even near to the end, because, on the corner of the room, electric blue eyes looked at him from above, blood and dirt everywhere. The worse came when the silhouette walked, getting closer to the moon light, and Sylvain was able to see him, his neck wounded, blood flooding, and he felt sick at the sight.

Opposite to the other two, still murmuring, Dimitri said nothing. The dead king just stood there, looking at Sylvain, and his eyes were so _sad, so disappointed._

He wanted everything to stop, but he deserved all of this. He sided with the empire, leaving his friends behind, and betrayed them. _Killed them._

And then, laughter filled the room. It was a laugh he well knew, reverberating through the room and then, heavy hands where on his shoulders, where Felix’s hands were before.

Sylvain wanted to throw up, he needed to breathe, but he wasn’t able to, and not just because of his childhood friend and love grasping his neck. Shadow casted him, Sylvain saw a familiar face, red fiery hair, and a big scar on his face.

Miklan was talking, but he couldn’t decipher the words anymore, just a little whisper that sounded so far away. Oh Goddess, how he wishes that he died on battle. Maybe he should have died by Felix’s hands. Or maybe he could have died on that well where Miklan pushed him. Surely it would have saved everyone a pain.

“…vain! Sylvain!”

Sylvain woke up, alarmed, looking everywhere, before landing his eyes on the woman beside him, who had a frown on her pretty face.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Did I wake you?” Sylvain smiled, trying to draw on his flirty tone, a fake sweet smile and his face, which only got a deeper frown in answer, her green eyes looking behind the façade Sylvain created. Even if Dorothea didn’t know him since they were children, she was quite capable of seeing through his lies, and she always told him off without mincing words.

“Sylvain, please, do not lie to me” Dorothea held his hand, looking at his eyes with such a sad face, making it clear that she knew. She put her other hand, pale and a little bit rough because of the sword she used sometimes during war time, on Sylvain’s cheek, caressing his face, and bringing their foreheads together “I’m not just your wife, but also you friend. We both went through hard times, and know the horrors of war. You don’t have to tell me, but please, don’t lie to me”

Sylvain stayed silent, and Dorothea didn’t push the matter, just kept caressing her husband, singing in a low voice to calm him down, while he played with her hair, both falling on a comfortable silence, only interrupted by Dorothea’s soft singing.

“It was a nightmare. About my friends” Sylvain said after a while, hiding his face on Dorothea’s shoulder. She just hummed, making him know that she was listening, before leading her hands to the Gautier’s back, caressing him “I miss them, Thea. It’s my fault they’re not here. If I… If I just…”

“If you just what? Syl, look at me” The singer grabbed him by the face, softly, but firm, making green and hazel cross “It’s not your fault. They made their decision, and they fought for it, and so did you” Dorothea’s eyes were glassing, blurring her vision at the cruel memory of old friends becoming enemies, and therefore, bodies on the path to a better world. Tears also prickled in the corner of Sylvain’s eyes.

They didn’t say anything else, holding each other through cold night of Gautier. They weren’t necessarily in love. Sure, they loved each other, but Felix left a hole too big to fill on Sylvain’s heart, and Dorothea’s eyes still lingered on Petra every time she visited. But it was fine, because they both knew. They didn’t love each other as lovers did, but they needed the other. And that was perfectly fine, because the parts of the heart the other didn’t own belonged to a person who could never return their affection.

So it was fine. Every time they held each other on a cold night, after a nightmare, or shared a laugh, forgetting for a moment the war happened, healed their hearts a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> You can complain to me on twitter: @Srta_Doppe


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